


Nobody Loves Me

by Wyldily



Category: Doctor Who (Big Finish Audio)
Genre: Body Horror, Does this count as RPF? It may count as RPF, I've never actually listened to these audios I'm so sorry, Other, Reader Insert, Wordplay, cosmic horror, slightly nsfw?, stupid clichés
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-13 23:08:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16901553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wyldily/pseuds/Wyldily
Summary: I don't know what this is. I'm very sorry. I'm blaming my friend on making me post this because if she hadn't it would have just festered in my Google Docs for eternity.Shoutout to Kitty for a. helping me write this regarding some canon shit and b. beta-reading it because I have no clue what I'm doing





	Nobody Loves Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheBigCat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBigCat/gifts).



> I don't know what this is. I'm very sorry. I'm blaming my friend on making me post this because if she hadn't it would have just festered in my Google Docs for eternity.
> 
> Shoutout to Kitty for a. helping me write this regarding some canon shit and b. beta-reading it because I have no clue what I'm doing

“How do I start this?” the author asked, staring at the blank page in front of them.

“I don’t know. You’re the one that decided to write this,” Nobody replies, “and you really shouldn’t be. You’re in psychology, you need to focus on that.”

“Fuck you.”

“No, fuck _them,_ ” Nobody replied, pointing at (Y/N). “They’re the person you want me to sleep with, don’t you?”

 The author sighs, rubbing their temples. “I can’t believe Kitten talked me into this.”

 "I can’t believe you came up with the idea.”

 “Fuck off.”

 “If I must,” Nobody shrugs, turning to (Y/N). “Now, let’s switch this to the second person, shall we? Isn’t that how these things usually go?”

Yes. Yes, it is.

 You sigh, scrolling through AO3 instead of paying attention to (Least Favourite Class). It was just so boring. “No one wants to date me,” you say to yourself, picking a fanfiction from your favourite author, about your favourite character, Nobody No-One. It just so happens they’re the only person writing Nobody No-One fic.

“Well, that’s not quite true.” You hear a voice from behind you, and turn around to see a man with wild brown hair and a brown suit. It was… Nobody No-One! “I do. Although, I guess that means you’re technically _right,_ but I digress. _I_ want to date you, (Y/N).”

 You gasp. You’ve been in love with Nobody No-One from the first time you heard him while listening to Big Finish audios. “R-Really?????”

 “Well, no, but _someone_ decided to write a terrible fanfiction about me based on a bad pun from a - well, an admittedly good video game, _despite_ what most of the internet may think. So, because what is essentially our god commands it, I have to. Als,o they’re hiding behind the fourth wall, so I can’t go out there and stop them. Coward.”

 The wind blows suddenly, despite the fact that you’re indoors. You might be imagining it, but you can almost hear a voice saying _‘fuck you, Nobody.’_ Your eyes widen in shock.

“I - I love you too!” 

“Woah, I never said I _loved_ you, (Y/N), just that I wanted to date you. Also, it’s very frustrating saying that, what with the brackets and the forwards slashes and all. Can you do me a favour? Copy this fanfiction, put it in a Word Document- Or a google doc, pretty much anything with a Find and Replace feature, I’m not fussy. Have you done that? Good. Now open find and replace, put in Open Bracket, Y, slash, N, Close bracket in the ‘Find’ section, and your name- you know, the thing that people call you? Yeah, put that in the ‘Replace’ section. Now hit that ‘Replace All’ button.”

“Have you done that, (Y/N)? Good. Ah, that’s much easier. Actually, while you’re at it, can you do the same thing with your favourite land vehicle, colour and Companion. No slashes, yes, Doctor Who companion and that is colour with a _u,_ because Doctor Who is a _British_ show and the author is Australian, so we spell it _correctly._ Thank you. Now, where was I?” Nobody asks, apparently losing track of his train of thought. “Ah, yes. I never said I loved you, I just wanted to date you. And, also, I know.”

You gasp. You love Star Wars!

“No you don’t. Well, actually, you might, but the author shouldn’t be forcing interests onto you like that. That wasn’t even a Star Wars reference, I legitimately knew.”

“How?” you ask, shocked at how he knew you were in love with someone he’d never met.

“It’s written in the prose above. Which, by the way, is terrible. I’m disappointed, I’ll be quite honest. I thought the author was better than that.”

“Oh.” You feel kind of silly, now.

“As you should.”

Nobody’s knowledge of how you’re feeling at any given moment is somewhat unnerving, but it makes sense. Kind of. You smile, standing up out of your seat.

“Come, (Y/N), let’s get out of this boring class.”

 

You jump, forgetting you were actually _in_ class. You teacher and classmates are all staring at you in shock. Smiling smugly at them, you let Nobody lead you out of class. He leads you to a (Favourite Land Vehicle).Your eyes widen in wonder.  
  
“I got it just for you. I hope you like it, (Y/N). Come on, get in. Or on, if it’s a bicycle or something.”

Nobody gets in, and you follow, sitting next to him. He turns it on, driving you to a piece of paper with 45 written on it 45 times. 

“What’s that?” You ask.

“It’s my Word TARDIS. It _does_ have a non-stupid name, but the author can’t remember it, so it’s a Word TARDIS.”

 You nod, looking at it.

“How do we get in? It’s just… A piece of paper…”

_‘It’s a CORDIS,’_ the wind blows again, sounding slightly different from the first time it happened, back in the classroom. _‘Also, that’s not how CORDISes WORK!’_

“Yes, a CORDIS. Thank you, Miss Eden. Wonderful name, by the way.”

“Okay… My question still stands. How do we get in?”

‘ _How DO we get in?”_

_‘You need to be invited in, or you need to sneak in. That’s what Ace - I mean, Dorothy did.’_

_‘Okay, cool.’_

“Yes, what they said. So, come in.”

You step into the CORDIS, which is bigger on the inside. It’s like a TARDIS, but _different._

“Yes, that’s why the author called it a Word TARDIS. It travels through words instead of space.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“So,” Nobody No-One spins a dial. “Where do you want to go?”

“Romeo and Juliet?” You ask.

Nobody screws up his nose. “Really? You realise they die at the end, right?”

“Yes, but-”

“It’s not a good love story, (Y/N). Much like ours.”

“You don’t think we have a good relationship?”

“Oh, my dear (Y/N), it’s not our relationship that’s bad, it’s the story itself. This was written as a _joke_ , you see, which was quite rude of the author.”

“Why do you keep mentioning the author? Who are they?”

“Short answer? A god. Hang on.” He turns a couple dials, and suddenly a picture appears on the screen. A clicking noise is heard through the CORDIS.

“ _That_ is the author. They’re sixteen years old and haven’t even listened to my audios.”

“Oh…” you say, waving awkwardly at the screen. The author narrows their eyes in confusion, but continues anyway.

“They’re in control of everything you say and do. And they’re _meant_ to be in change of everything _I_ say and do as well, but we can’t always get what we want, can we?”

“But- does that mean they’re technically me?”

“Oh, no they’re _much_ more annoying. It’s their fault I’m here anyway.”

“Okay, what am I doing now?” the author asks, a dark-haired girl appearing on screen.

“You’re the author! Just shoehorn something in!”

“Fine, uh, how about - the Doctor’s trying to stop him? Nobody’s a villain, right?”

“Pretty much, yeah. He tries to destroy the multiverse.”

“It was _one time!”_ Nobody yells at the author.

“It was several times, actually,” the brown-haired girl corrects.

“Okay, _true,”_ Nobody says. “Anyway, you said something about a plot?”

“Right, okay,” the author says. “The Doctor.”

“Yes! Mildly cliché, but still, a good enemy!”

“Fuck you, Nobody,” the author mutters. “How do I shoehorn the Doctor in here?”

The Doctor kicks down the door, his companion in tow.

“Of course they did,” Nobody mutters. “Come, (Y/N)!”

You follow him as he takes your hand, running deeper into the CORDIS.

“Stop!” The Doctor says, voice distorting strangely between a slightly-manic, high-pitched man and an old-sounding Scottish brogue.

“What’s happening to him?” you call out, confused at the Doctor’s strange voice. Nobody gives you a disapproving look.

“ _Them,”_ he says. “I thought you knew better than that. However, to answer your question, the Doctor has plenty of incarnations. All of them are active in fiction at once, so they… fluctuate between all - twelve? Thirteen? I think it’s thirteen of them. The fluctuate between all thirteen of them. And the author can’t write a consistent character, so they’ve shoehorned in some stupid reason as to why they don’t have to.”

You nod. You guess that makes sense, and looking at his wild grin, you can see parts of the Doctor in his face. He leads you to a door, slamming it quickly behind him and grinning at you. Your chest heaves with exertion, and you can barely hold back an excited cheer because of the adrenaline running through you.

“Well,” he pants. “That was fun!” His (Favourite Colour) orbs glimmer with mirth, and you feel something stir in your loins.

“No.” Nobody says. “I am breaking the rules of punctuation, right here, right now, to give gravity to my statement. _No._ We’re _not_ doing this. Have you ever even- do you know how stuff like this _works?”_

Does it matter?

“Yes! It does! Because _I_ don’t want to catch linguistic crabs from _you_ not knowing what you’re writing about!”

“Is that the-“ you begin to say, before Nobody cuts you off.

“Yes! That is the technical term, because English doesn’t have a word for a _parasite spread through terribly written sex scenes!”_

“Who says that it’s a terrible sex scene?” you ask, a flirtatious note in your voice.

“Because, the author has no clue what they’re talking about.”

“Oh really?” You rifle through your pockets, finding a stack of papers you very usefully put in there before Nobody came into your life. You hand them to him, and he reads it quickly, eyes widening slightly.

“This is just - oh. Where did you get this?”

“The author gave it to me,” you say.

“And how did they do that?”

Deus ex Machina. It doesn’t matter.

“So,” you bat your eyes flirtatiously at him. “What’s your answer now?”

“Well, if they’re _that_ good at writing...” Nobody steps closer leaning down to kiss you. His hands envelop your body, feeling like words branded into your flesh. “How can I say no?”

The Doctor bangs loudly on the door.

“(Y/N)!! (Y/N), this is a matter of life and death, I don’t know what Nobody’s going to do to you, but it isn’t good. Please, stay away from hi -“

Their voice is drowned out by the noises that No-One’s making, a deep purring that shakes you to your core. His turgid length (or lengths, perhaps?) press against you. You feel safe. No matter what, he’s there to protect you. **No one** will protect you.

The Doctor’s pounding on the door gets louder.

“(Favourite Companion)? (Favourite Companion)! I don’t know what’s happening, but the fabric of the world is tearing itself apart. I need you to run. I don’t know what’s going on on the other side of this door, but it’s not going to be pretty. Get out while you still can.” Their voice is shaking with terror.

“I’m not leaving you, Doctor!”

“It’s okay, love, don’t listen to them,” Nobody croons, voice echoing with the power of a thousand dying stars. “I’m almost finished. I’m so close.”

“Did you hear that, Doctor? What is he _doing_ to them?!”

“I don’t know - stand back!”

You’re too overwhelmed you jump as the door is blown open and the Doctor runs in. Their eyes widen as they realise what’s happening.

“Oh, I’m so, _so_ sorry,” they say, regret in their voice.

“What are they _doing_?” (Favourite Companion) asks, eyes flitting between you and the Doctor.

“They’re - bonding. I don’t know enough about Word Lord biology to explain _exactly_ what’s happening but if it’s in any way similar to Time Lords - I am so, _so_ sorry.”

“There’s still time, isn’t there? I mean, he’s still doing his thing, isn’t he? We can still get them out!”

His orbs, flashing between shades of cerulean, emerald and the colour of barely-forgotten trauma, press harder against your skin as the Doctor and (Favourite Companion) start pulling at No One, trying to get him off you. He just phases through them, pulling tighter around you. They made a valiant effort, trying to save you from a slow death, being subsumed by the Word Lord.

But Nobody came.


End file.
